


Faking It

by dcrekhale



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating, Feyre Archeron - Freeform, Flirting, Hair Pulling, Moaning, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rhysand - Freeform, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sexual Tension, University, bad cassian, but do they?, but we all know she wants to fuck him, cassian sits with nests at dinner and his hands goes to places it shouldn't, formal dinner, nesta pretends she doesn't like cassian, student!nesta, they hate each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcrekhale/pseuds/dcrekhale
Summary: When Nesta lies to her sisters that she’s dating someone, they propose a double date of sorts. Now Nesta needs to find a fake boyfriend real quick, and who better than the cocky and infuriating Cassian in her sociology class?





	Faking It

i

If Nesta’s eyes were lasers, Cassian would have permanent holes in the back of his head from the number of times Nesta glared at him in class. Today they were debating whether traditional matrimony was going out of style. As soon as the professor launched the question, Cassian’s arm shot up as if it was magnetically attracted to the ceiling. Nesta rolled her eyes as he stood up and turned to the students.

Nesta didn’t even bother to listen to his argument, twirling a wooden pencil in between her fingers. With her other hand, she propped up her chin, watching the surrounding students staring at Cassian. Some stares were filled with agreement, some with jealousy, but what irked Nesta, was that most were lusty girl gazing at him beneath their lashes.

Did they have no self-respect? Why did they have shit taste in men?

A stream of thoughts ran through Nesta’s head, and before she had time to deeply contemplate the answers, the room interrupted in a deafening sound. Nesta winced. Looking around she saw everyone clapping. Nesta narrowed her eyes and flicked her attention back at Cassian, who caught her eye as soon as she looked up.

Cassian’s facial features were lit up in a smug expression, tendrils of dark hair falling out of his bun, framing his face. His hazel eyes trapped Nesta’s own within their golden abyss. Nesta willed herself to keep looking, narrowing her eyes, challenging his stare. For someone reason, Cassian infuriated her. He heated her up in all the wrong ways.

Nesta raised her eyebrows, prompting Cassian to make a move, but instead he merely brushed Nesta off and turned to look at the professor with a smile guaranteed to get any girl pregnant.

Clenching her jaw, Nesta heard a crack and felt a slight prick of pain. Any person passing by would have seen that Nesta broke the pencil in half with one hand, and the jagged edges were pressing into her skin, drawing blood.

“Damn,” Nesta whispered quietly to herself as she stared at another unexplainable cause of her anger towards to muscular boy. Digging into her bag, Nesta drew a tissue and pressed it against the cut, watching the red color travel up the thin tissue.

Once Nesta had successfully stopped the bleeding, she looked back up at the front of the class. The professor was pressed up against the huge chalkboards lining the walls, writing the assigned reading in the sociology textbook. It had seemed that Nesta had blanked out for the rest of the debate, too caught up in her hand. This was unusual of Nesta, who usually was an avid contributor to sociology debates.

The professor clapped his hands together, watching chalk dust fall to the floor.

“That’s it. See you next class.”

Nesta slid out of her seat, pulling out her phone and pulled up the camera app to take a picture of the writing on the board. Once she took the photo, Nesta placed her phone in the back pocket of her tight pants, ignored everyone, and promptly walked out into the courtyard.

It was an average autumn day; wisps of cold winds shoved themselves against Nesta’s face causing her cheeks and the tip of her nose to turn into a light pink. Nesta rubbed her hands together, retreating them into the sleeves of her burgundy, cable knit sweater. Noticing a wet feeling against the sweater, Nesta’s eyes widened when she realized her wound was bleeding again.

She pulled up her sleeve to reveal her wound once again bleeding. Inspecting her sweater, Nesta saw that blood had already stained it.

Nesta let out a frustrated moan and briskly walked over to the nearest bench. Setting her bag on the wooden structure, she unzipped it, and with her left hand started digging through it. Nesta held out her bleeding hand, horizontal so it wouldn’t drip. It wasn’t like the wound was deep and she would need stitches, it just kept on bleeding. What Nesta really needed was something to cover it. But as Nesta dug through her bag, she came to the realizations she left her tissues in the lecture hall. In most circumstances, she would rush back into the room to retrieve her belonging, but Nesta saw the professor getting into his car, meaning the room would be locked.

Nesta closed her eyes in frustrations, dropping her bleeding hand to her side.

“Nesta.”

Nesta’s eyes widened and twirled around to see Cassian with an arrogant grin on his face. Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, conscious not to get any blood on her sweater.

“Oh joy. It’s Cassian.” Nesta intoned monotonously.

Cassian picked up on her sarcasm but decided against speaking about it. Instead, he took a step closer to Nesta.

“I was deeply disappointed that you didn’t join the debate with me today,” Cassian continued.

“Sorry Cassian, debating with unskilled idiots isn’t good practice for me,” Nesta deadpanned, tapping her foot expectantly.

A laugh erupted from the back of Cassian’s throat, deep and feral. He advanced on Nesta, standing almost on top of her, looking down, eyes gleaming.

“You’ll find, Nesta, I’m skilled at many, many things. I’d show you, but sadly, I have other preoccupations.” Cassian smugly divulged.

Immediately when Cassian stopped talking, he smoothly slid his hand around her waist and into her back pocket. As soon as his hand was there, it was gone. Nesta would have never thought it happened if she didn’t explicitly remember Cassian large hand pressed up against her ass.

Nesta was stunned. Before she could yell at Cassian and push him away, he was retreating to his car with a jovial smile lighting up his face, waving at girls who smiled at him.

Nesta’s watchful gaze followed Cassian into his car, her hand mirroring his own and slipping into her back pocket, almost trying to relive the moment, to make sure it happened.

The biggest surprise of all was when Nesta felt a thin paper in her pocket and subsequently pulled out a band-aid.

The sneaky fucker.

Nesta scowled and wrapped the band-aid on her cut, all the while cursing at Cassian.

ii

Nesta collapsed onto her couch, brushing up against the pillows, sighing deeply. Her expression only lightened up a fraction when a furry mass jumped onto her lap, sinking into Nesta. Nesta absentmindedly placed her manicured hand on the cat, petting it softly, whilst looking out the window.

She could get started on her research paper.

She could go get groceries.

She could tidy up the apartment.

Instead, Nesta slid her phone out of her pocket, pressing her thumb against the home button, her eyes shining as the screen came to life. Unlocking it, Nesta scrolled through her social media, countless aesthetically pleasing picture appearing.

Double tapping most of them, Nesta’s screen suddenly filled with a stunning picture. It was a topless, muscular man with dark black hair and piercing eyes (Nesta couldn’t make out the color) holding what appeared to be her sister, bridal style. Nesta drank in the stunning crystal clear, tropic ocean, the clear skies, and the golden beaches. The biggest eye-catcher, however, was how they weren’t staring at the camera, they were staring at each other.

For a split second, Nesta’s heart filled with desire, bursting to the brim.

For a split second, Nesta wanted someone to hold and go on extravagant vacations.

For a split second, Nesta didn’t want to be alone.

Nesta was shaken out of her unusual thoughts when the device in her hand started to buzz, vibrations spreading throughout her grasp.

The screen displayed ‘Elain’ when Nesta looked down, and having no other option but to answer, she brought it to her ear..

“Hello?” Nesta asked, waiting for her sister’s response

‘Hi, Nesta!’ Elain’s cheery voice traveled through the phone and cut through the gloomy environment of Nesta’s apartment.

“What can I owe this phone call to?” Nesta inquired, sweetly.

Out of the two sisters, Elain was always who received less of Nesta’s spiteful mood swings. Nesta shifted the phone at her ears and picked up Scarlett, placing him on the ground.

‘Well Feyre and her friend, Mor, are over at my house and we’re having dinner and we wanted you to join.’ Elain replied timidly, knowing Nesta was not one to participate in social events.

“Sorry, Elain, I’m not feeling well.” Nesta monotonously said.

Elain picked up on her routine answer and sighed.

Hopeful, Elain encouraged Nesta, ‘I made chocolate lava cake.’

The line went silent. Nesta weighed her options. Except she didn’t need to. No matter what, there was no way in hell Nesta was going to deny an opportunity to demolish Elain’s lava cake.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Nesta hung up.

iii

Wearing dark skinny jeans, a maroon sweater, and knee-high boots, Nesta found herself at Elain’s door, knocking.

From within, Nesta could hear music, soft and rhythmic. The door swung open to reveal Elain, sweet and precious as she always was. Nesta brushed her hair back with her hand as she was unwillingly pulled into Elain’s embrace.

When they let go of each other, Elain whispered, “The wine’s in the kitchen.”

Nesta let out a wide smile; Elain always knew what she wanted. Nesta passed Feyre and Mor in the living room on the way to the kitchen. Both of them were collapsed over each other on the couch, giggling about something on the television. Nesta rolled her eyes and continued on to the kitchen, eager to pour herself a glass of dark red.

When she reached the kitchen she saw bottles of reds, whites, and rosés. Elain didn’t drink that often so Nesta knew she could credit the alcohol to Feyre. Nesta didn’t care which red she drank as long as it helped her forget where she was.

Picking a random one, she fingered a wine glass and poured the contents of the bottle into the glass. The dark red liquid reminded her of the blood from her cut, causing Nesta to place the bottle on the counter and check up on the wound.

Peeling the band-aid off, Nesta found it had dried into a scab; the band-aid was no longer necessary. Throwing it in the trash, Nesta swooped up her wine glass and made her way back to the living room where Feyre and Mor were actually sitting properly. Elain had joined the pair and was sitting with her legs crossed on an armchair eating chocolate chips from a bowl.

“Nesta!” Feyre greeted, already apparently tipsy.

“Feyre,” Nesta greed, sitting herself down and counting down the minutes until she’d have chocolate lava cake in her mouth.

“So hows uni?” Feyre asked.

“It’s okay. Boring and too much work, but I guess that’s what happens when you want a masters degree,” Nesta sighed, take a sip from her glass, pressing her tongue to the top of her mouth, trying to achieve the full flavor capacity.

“You work too hard, Nesta. Look at me, I don’t go to school anymore and I’m doing just fine.” Feyre shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal.

Mor rolled her rolled her eyes and cut in before Nesta could go off, “That’s because you founded a successful business with your fiancé right out of college. Not everyone can do that.”

Elaine softly added, “Don’t worry, Nesta, I’m still in college,”

Nesta remained silent, crossing her leg over the other, waiting for the wine to take effect.

“Speaking of which, how are the wedding preparations coming?” Mor asked, directing her question at Feyre.

“Pretty slow,” Feyre answered, reaching over for more wine. “We just released a software update, so Rhysand and I haven’t had time to think about our needs. It’s okay though, we have all the time in the world.”

With that, Feyre yawned and laid her head in Mor’s lap, setting the wine on the nearest table. Looking up at Mor, Feyre asked,

“What about youuuu?” Feyre asked, playing with Mor’s ice blonde hair, slurring the last syllable.

“Honestly, I’m not really looking for anything right now, you know? Just casual hookups. I mean why do you have to get stuck with one flavor when you can have all of them?”

Nesta silently agreed. She had always admired Mor, for her beginning and the person she turned out to be. Mor was someone Nesta could never be, yet aspired to.

“But I did hear Elain has been seeing someone who goes by the name Azriel,” Mor mischievously said, wriggling her eyebrows.

Elain’s cheeks turned a pretty pink color as she clutched her bowl of chocolate chips harder.

“We’re not exactly dating….” Elain trailed.

“But you fuck and hang out together often enough that it would be considered dating.” Feyre objectively said, the three wine glasses hitting their climax.

“Feyre!” Elain squealed, stuffing her mouth with chocolate chips.

“I’m right.” Feyre pointed out and dismissed the topic, “What about you Nesta? Still single?”

Nesta didn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it was the wine in her system. Maybe it was the loneliness she felt when she saw the picture of Feyre and Rhysand. Or maybe it was the tone of Feyre’s voice. Either way, Nesta knew she was in deep shit.

“No, Feyre, I actually have a boyfriend,” Nest said indignantly.

Every single person sat up in their seat.

“What?” Elain exclaimed, “You didn’t tell me?”

“It isn’t my job to let you know about every single one of my personal affairs.” Nesta put simply, ignoring Feyre’s suspicious glance.

“Hmm, okay,” Feyre said quietly.

“Since the three of you seem to have boyfriends, why don’t you guys go on a triple date?” Mor suggested.

“A what?” Nesta repeated, unsure.

“There’s three of you, so each of you should go out to dinner with your dates and get to know each other better.”

A smile erupted on Elain’s face, “That’s a great idea! Tomorrow is Friday, I’ll book a table for six at that restaurant we were planning to go to.”

“Tomorrow?” Nesta spluttered.

“Something wrong, Nesta?” Feyre dug.

“Nothing.”

“Good!” Elain cheerfully exclaimed, “I’ll text you guys details later.”

Nesta sighed.

Even a thousand glasses of wine wouldn’t fix this problem.

iv

Class hadn’t begun yet, and Nesta was timidly standing near an oak tree, staring down at her cell phone. Elain’s text message was pulled up:

Hi Nesta! Here’s the address:

16 Pryth St. 18224

We’re meeting outside the restaurant around 8 o'clock tonight. Sounds good?

Beneath her sister’s text was her’s:

Great.

Simple. Sweet. And a Lie.

Things were definitely not great. In fact, they were horrendous. It was 1 p.m. and Nesta needed to find a fake boyfriend in the next seven hours.

Her class began at 1: 30 p.m. but Nesta couldn’t sit idly at her house when her body was full of nerves. She had to move. Nesta decided to go to the uni where she could idly sit there, anxious.

Nesta was now considering just cancelling on Feyre and Elain and leaving them to their double date. But then they would know that Nesta was lying and she couldn’t have that.

Nesta was brought out of her depressing thoughts when she heard a loud car beep. Frowning, Nesta looked up at the street that cut into the campus to find Cassian’s range rover’s window rolled down, and his head peering out of it talking to a giggling girl approaching the car.

Nesta glared at him.

Did he have to give every poor girl hope? Couldn’t he control his dick for just one second?

Over the school year, Nesta had observed his superior flirting skills. Each day was a new girl he was talking up. Except for Nesta. She was a constant; Cassian always found a way to make a comment at her everyday, even if it was only a word.

Nesta looked back down at her phone, clicking the power button so that she was faced with her reflection in the dark screen.

And as she stared at herself, the idea struck Nesta, ramming straight into her.

Cassian.

Cassian would be her ‘boyfriend’ whether he liked it or not.

Determined, Nesta slid the phone into her back pocket, sliding her backpack further up her shoulder.

In a totally stalker-ish way, Nesta watched as Cassian descended up the staircase, walking up the incline of the hill, until he was almost parallel to where Nesta was standing.

Cassian stopped and stared down at his watch, running a hand through his hair. Spotting Nesta, he turned to greet her.

“Hi, Nesta,” Cassian smugly regarded.

Nesta didn’t answer, instead she stalked towards Cassian, pulled his collar and dragged him towards the tree.

Nesta pushed Cassian against the truck and let go of him, quickly scanning the surrounding area so that no one would witness what was happening. Lowering her voice, just in case, Nesta began to speak.

“I have an issue, and, uh, I need you, to uh help me with it,” Nesta blurted out in a hushed voice.

“Why are you whispering?” Cassian blurted out, in a loud voice.

Nesta instinctively put her hand over Cassian’s mouth.

“Can you, maybe, shut up?” Nesta hissed, looking around again to make sure no one noticed the position she and Cassian were in.

Instead of replying, Cassian looked straight into Nesta’s eyes and carefully took Nesta’s ring finger into his mouth, encasing it in his tongue and slowly sucking on it, not breaking eye contact.

Heat spread throughout Nesta’s body as she ripped her hand from Cassian’s mouth, aggressively wiping her hand on her jeans, willing herself not to yell at him.

Taking a breath, Nesta started to explain to Cassian, who adorned an arrogant expression Nesta was itching to slap off.

“Listen, Cassian, I need someone to go to dinner with me and pretend to be my boyfriend for one night. It’ll be only a few hours, but I’m begging you to come,” Nesta painfully croaked out the last phrase.

“What?” Cassian blinked, clearly not expecting what Nesta said.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Nesta sighed, impatient.

“It kinda is, sweetheart,” Cassian reasoned.

Nesta took a deep breath, “Okay, I kinda sorta lied to my two sisters and told them I had a boyfriend, even though I, well, don’t. Since they do, they invited me out to dinner and everyone is bringing their boyfriend as a date. So, I’m in deep shit because I don’t have one. But, if you’d be the best guy in the world, and would pretend to be my boyfriend for one night, then I’d be the happiest girl in the world. What do you say?”

“Well it would be horrible of me not to help a damsel in distress, wouldn’t it?” Cassian coyly asked.

“I’m not a damsel in distress, I just don’t have a boyfriend.” Nesta deadpanned.

Cassian let out a loud laugh.

“Okay, I’ll be your ‘boyfriend’, but be warned, once we’re over you might not be able to stay away.” Cassian agreed.

“Shut up.” Nesta replied, jumping for joy internally, fishing in her backpack for a piece of paper and a pen. Scribbling down her number on the torn up paper, Nest handed it to Cassian.

“This is my number, text me when you want my adress.” Nesta commented.

Cassian took the piece of paper and stared at it as if he was trying to memorize it.

“And wear a suit, it’s a really nice place,” Nesta added, turning and walking to class, leaving Cassian against the tree.

“Anything for you, Nesta!” Cassian called out from behind her, quite loud.

Nesta scowled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Here’s the summary for part 2:
> 
> Nesta thinks everything is going smoothly until she find out that her fake boyfriend, Cassian, seems to already known Rhysand and Azriel. Holes are littered throughout Cassian and Nesta’s ‘love story’ and her two sisters, Feyre and Elain, are deeply suspicious of Cassian being Nesta’s boyfriend. Throughout the chaos, one things for sure, Nesta and Cassian can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other.


End file.
